


"The Inquisitor Lavellan Story"

by hrhsparklefists



Series: So Over This Shem Nonsense [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhsparklefists/pseuds/hrhsparklefists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra wasn't the only one who got a copy of Varric's newest book. On their, much deserved, day off Inquisitor Oraris Lavellan and The Iron Bull give it a read through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"The Inquisitor Lavellan Story"

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I was inspired by the easter egg at the end of the Trespasser DLC. I took all of the lines Cassandra read from the book and had my Inquisitor and The Iron Bull read it together.  
> Written because I wanted shameless schmoopy fluff for Bullavellan and wasn't finding things shamelessly schmoopy enough for me.  
> 

“So… Varric’s newest book?” The Inquisitor suggested, drumming the fingers of her right hand against the cover of the book resting on her desk. The title, _All This Shit Is Weird_ , stares up at her in big print. Oraris couldn’t believe he _actually_ named it that, she had assumed he was joking when he first suggested it over two years ago.

The Iron Bull gestured from the bed. “Yeah, bring it over. Let’s take a look.” Days to themselves were a rarity. When they have one it is often spent curled up in bed reading to each other, filled with lazy kisses and sex, and plenty of laughter. Oraris’ bare feet made no sound on the stone floor as she sought out her husband’s embrace. She climbed onto the bed and found the comfiest position she could between Bull’s legs. The elf kept minutely shifting until Bull brought his arm around her middle, “Careful, Kadan. That kind of movement may start giving me _ideas_.” He warned in a low voice, nipping her neck. How that man could make such an innocent word so _dirty_ was beyond her. Bull smiled into her neck as she finally settled against his chest with a small contented sigh and a final wiggle.

“Later, Vhenan.” Was the delayed whisper. Bull felt a few light pats on his hands and chuckled, “First, we read Varric’s newest book.” The Iron Bull placed a soft kiss on her hair as he cracked it open.

“What the hell kind of title is _All This Shit is Weird_?”

“You know, he told me that’s what he was going to call it ages ago and I didn’t believe him.”

With a soft exhaled chuckle Bull began to read.

 

* * *

 

 

“The sky churned like a roiling sea on a dark and stormy night. Centered on a gaping hole that lead to the ass-end of nowhere. A hole that spit up many things that day: comets, demons… and a whole lot of trouble.” The Iron Bull paused, “Wait. He wrote about all our weird shit?” While unbraiding her hair Oraris hummed a yes. “Okay, yeah maybe that is a fitting name.” A giggle arose from the woman leaning on his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

“The din of the tavern cut the silence like it owed The Carta money. In the middle, in her element, Red Jenny. She looked me up down – mostly down.” A small snort of amusement escaped Oraris as she finished the sentence. Bull’s matching laugh shook her tiny body even though she was leaning away to give Bull ample space as he brushed her hair.

“’Not playing, weirdy.’ She said, gesturing with, and dismissively eating, a sandwich. ‘Don’t write that. Seriously, piss up a rope.’” She read in the best imitation of Sera she could muster.

Smacking his stomach with the brush, Bull leaned back with a massive guffaw. Clutching his stomach as full belly laughs shook through him. “What the hell was that _voice_?!”

Oraris whipped around to stare at Bull. She jutted out her bottom lip in the _biggest_ pout she could muster and in a tiny but hard voice she squeezed out, “That was my Sera impression. It’s a good Sera impression. I’d like to see _you_ do _any better_. Jerk.” Bull’s hand came up to her back and gave it a little apology rub.

“I bet you a blow job I could do better.”

“Deal. But whoever wins has to continue reading during.”

The two spent the next half hour attempting to mimic Sera’s hard, northern accent. Eventually, after many frustrated and downright piss-your-underclothes hilarious attempts, Bull conceded this battle to his Kadan.

“Keep reading.” Bull commanded before enthusiastically making good on his wager.

“Sera made the subtext text, which s-s-suited me f-f—i—ahh ohh.” Oraris stuttered to a stop, unable to suppress her moans.

 

* * *

 

 

“You realize you’re going to have to brush the knots out of my hair again.”

“Worth it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“The Court Enchanter swirled into the room like a drop of beautiful poison spreading in a wine glass. She sized me up with a glance.” Lavellan winced as Bull worked out a particularly bad knot.

“Next time,” Bull paused as he growled at an especially stubborn knot, “maybe we should make sure your hair is at least in a bun. Out of harm’s way.” He suggested, holding the hair right above the knot as he brushed. “Because this is going to take forever to get out.”

“I probably have something in our beauty box.” Pausing in his ministrations, Bull nudged Oraris forward and climbed out of bed to find their crate of ‘beauty supplies’ hidden in one of the bookshelves.

“A good soak in a bath might also help.”  He grunted from his crouch. A dreamy hum came from the bed.

“I could go for a nice bath. Let’s finish the chapter before we begin that monumental task.”

“You got it, Boss.” Bull said as he climbed back into bed behind her and they continued reading. Once Bull noticed that Vivienne’s character was about to speak for the first time, he began excitedly nudging Oraris, all the while mumbling ‘do it, do it, do it’ in her ear.

“Creators! I am not going to try and mimic Viv’s voice! She’ll find out somehow! And have me _killed_. Now stop nudging me!”

“Well you’re no fun.” Bull pouted.

“You can face down your death if you like; I will not defend you from Viv’s ire.”

“Spoilsport.” Oraris spun and pinned him with a glare; Bull stuck his tongue out.

“’I’m so glad you made it, my dear.’” Oraris continued reading, “She said, ‘I am Madame De Fer, the most terrifying person you shall ever meet.’” Bull let out a booming laugh.

“Well that’s spot on, if a bit on the nose.”

 

* * *

 

 

Once they were settled into their hot bath, Bull reached over and snatched the book off the chair they had placed near the tub.

“Leliana enfolded Alphonse in an embrace as warm as a serpent’s kiss.” He paused and cleared his throat. In the most ridiculous, feminine, Orlesian accent, hamming it up as much as possible, he continued reading, “‘I always knew I could count on your support.’ The Count did not feel the bite of her poisoned dart until it was too late. ‘Even if it requires… your death.’” Lavellan buried her face in her husband’s bicep, trying to stifle her loud, snorting giggles.

 

* * *

 

 

“Drops of rain glistened on the griffon medallion grasped tightly in Blackwall’s hand.” Oraris pitched her voice as deep as possible and read in an exaggerated Northern accent, “‘The silverite Wings of Valor. They mean nothing.’ He flung the medal to the cold and uncaring ground. ‘You don’t know what I’ve done! You. Don’t. Know. Me.’” Bull laughed so hard water sloshed out of the tub.

“Cass would love this, wouldn’t she?”

“Undoubtedly.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Cole moved like a shadow that also moved like a knife. A shadow wearing a hat where dreams came to die.” Bull raised an eyebrow. “’It’s a riddle,’ he whispered. ‘A cold riddle that gnaws at your mind. But you’ll feel better when it’s gone.”

“I… what is that even supposed to mean?” She questioned, “usually I’m able to somewhat parse out what he means… But… what?” Bull shrugged as he washed her hair and back.

 

* * *

 

 

“’Do you place your Herald above The Law, Ambassador?’” Bull pitched his voice high, putting on an Antivan accent, “’Whose law, my lady?’ Joesphine’s eyes glittered like angry opals. ‘The law destroyed by rebellion? By civil war? By poor fiscal management? We are The Law!”

“That was scarily good.” Oraris complimented as she covered Bull’s back in soap. His chest puffed up in pride from the praise.

 

* * *

 

 

“We left our mark on Adamant, but the dust hadn’t settled… and neither had Harding. ‘I can offer you a drink, if I catch your meaning.’” Bull read in an increasingly confused voice, “’If you’d caught my meaning, you’d have offered a double.’”

“Do you understand what’s happening here?” Lavellan asked as she rinsed the suds off of Bull.

“Nope.”

 

* * *

 

 

Oraris squealed to herself, she was so excited to read Bull’s introduction. She immediately launched into the reading, using the most announcer-like voice she could muster.

“The Iron Bull was a great slab of muscle with horns that could hang a tapestry. One eye scanned for threats, while the other hid behind an eye patch like a chantry sister’s old sins.” Bull’s rumbling laugh filled the room. The elf turned around, resting her back against the edge of the tub, to watch his face as she read, wanting to see every bit of mirth she could incite in her husband. “’Come on,’ he barked, not looking back as he entered. ‘The dancer with the great rack comes on in five.’”

“ _I_ happen to be in a very _happy_ , _committed_ relationship.” Bull stated, folding his arms across his chest and raising his head proudly.

“Oh yeah? And who would that be with?” The Inquisitor teased.

“She’s great. You’d like her. Strong, quick-witted, compassionate, but takes no bullshit.” He replied, running his hands up his Kadan’s thighs.

“She does sound pretty great. What’s her name?”

“Vivienne.”

Oraris tossed the book behind her and lunged playfully at her Vhenan, while crowing ‘traitor!’ He caught her with ease and pinned her to his chest. She tried to break free of his grip, squirming with laughter. Bull planted a big, messy kiss on her cheek as they continued to giggle softly at each other.

 

* * *

 

 

With the bath water topped up, giving it warmth again, and the book collected from where it had smacked and laid to rest against the couch, Oraris began to read. Pressing his wife forward a little, so he could brush out the remaining tangles in her hair, Bull checked for knots by running his fingers through the strands. He brushed them out as he found them, before giving her hair a good final brush through.

“The Commander had the look of a Templar who had seen the worst of humanity, yet still had the time to style his hair.” Oraris read through the tugging of knots being untangled. Mouth twisting, she tried to mimic Cullen’s voice. Only… it came out pretentiously suave. “’This isn’t just a war,’ he said, his gaze steely like a dull blade. ‘It’s the only war.’”

Bull snorted in laughter and slapped a big hand over his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

“The mage wore a class of handsome sneer cultivated by a thousand years of Tevinter elitism.” Pinching her noise to make her voice sound stuffy, Oraris continued, “’The name’s Dorian,’ He glared. ‘D-O-R-I-A-N spell it right, you marble-headed lump, or it’s… toad time.’” Their faces pinched and Bull paused mid braid.

“Toad time? Really?”

 

* * *

 

 

“The bald elf spun, mage staff crackling like the city after a good man’s murder. ‘You’re crazy!’ The Red Templar cried in terror. Moonlight glinted off ears like the knives you never see coming. ‘Better to fade out than burn away.’”

“Ugh Varric.” They groaned simultaneously.

 

* * *

 

 

“The Seeker clutched at my vest, her tears as desperate as they were pitiful. ‘Varric, I was wrong about everything,’ she sobbed. ‘Could you find it in your noble heart to forgiv- ….me.’”

“Did… Did you just drop the book in the tub?”

Slow, disbelieving nod.

“You get to ask Varric for another copy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
